A letter just in from a prominent New Zealand academic currently based in America said,

“I have been watching from afar as New Zealand drowns itself in a cesspit of grief-porn, virtue-signalling, and finger pointing, with hemp-wearing, cloth-bag-toting, Green-voting “liberals” clambering over one another to be the most outraged; claiming there are “no words”, yet judging by the diatribes on social media managing to find words of epic proportions to blame anyone and everything but themselves. It’s depressing.”

I’ve just learnt that my piece on Brexit last week was censored by Facebook. Specifically it was banned in Britain on the grounds I was promoting political content into a country in which I’m not based.

Putting aside the fact that I own a home in Britain and would pay a thousand-fold more taxes and rates than the average Brit, the censorship was silly.

I’ve just received a term report re my ten year old daughter who attends one of our supposedly top private girls’ schools where plain English is verboten, the report being described as a “Diagnostic Profile” for Christ’s sake.

With all of the carry on about refugees here’s a tale to brighten your weekend.

Some years ago our refugee agency (half paid for by the United Nations and half by you) was run by a Canadian called Gary, now retired and living in Sydney.

This week south east Africa was hit by a cyclone of hitherto unprecedented power. Another extreme weather consequence of global warming we’re told and who am I, not being a scientist, to quarrel?